


The Black Widow's Reward

by muzzleofbees



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Community: avengerkink, F/M, Fisting, Group Sex, Kink Meme, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Orgy, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Threesome - F/M/M, female pleasure, thor is a sex god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzzleofbees/pseuds/muzzleofbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b><a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5758.html?replyto=6353022">Prompt</a></b>:I think we can acknowledge that Natasha is the baddest bitch on the block. She got intel from Loki, fought aliens and closed a damn hole in the universe without any powers. She deserves a reward, so after the dust settles Clint decides to give her the best sexing with the most orgasms of her life. Super female positive porn, all about Natasha getting some and just appreciating what a fucking champ she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Natasha hid her limp and wiped the blood from her temple, but nothing escaped Clint, and he saw every bruise in the way she held her body and the tiny lines at her mouth and eyes. When the rest of the group made their way to food, he caught her eye and inclined his head. She understood, following as he led her deeper into Stark tower. He wasn't familiar with it, but he assumed they would find a room with a lock sooner or later--a bed would be an acceptable bonus. Much to his pleasure, he found a bedroom with a bathroom attached. He pulled her inside and shut the door. 

"Clint." 

He shook his head a half inch, silencing her. She was too tired to do anything except let him strip her, unzipping and removing each piece until she stood in front of him in all her glory. Her beauty was deceptive, and even though he knew better than anybody, he was still so susceptible.

She fascinated him from the beginning, and he was never satisfied. He collected data like she was a target, and he never saw enough of her skin or her perfectly shaped, sweetly contoured limbs. He touched her with respect before-- always with the utmost respect--but now he knew so much more about her. Knew so much more about the quality of her strength, her bravery and conviction. Now he touched her with absolute reverence. 

He started with an injury check. He knew from experience how easy it was to continue despite terrible wounds, and if there was anything wrong with her, she may not feel it for hours. But her skin was unbroken, her body still perfect and whole. She remained patient beneath his searching fingers, allowing him more time than he expected, tolerated more tenderness than he would have ever tried before. 

He hooked his finger under her chin, angling her face towards the light, gently wiping the fresh trickle of blood from her temple. He pressed his mouth to the mark, kissing her with no pressure, letting the warmth of his lips soak into her skin. She moved for the first time, leaning into the caress. He kissed down the side of her face, putting his mouth so close to her ear that she'd feel the words rather than hear them. 

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, for so long that you won't be able to feel your legs for at least a week." 

She jerked back, her eyes wide with shock. He smiled. He so rarely surprised her that he cherished each instance. The look she had on her face now was priceless, and he scooped her up in his arms before she could recover. Her expression shifted from shocked to gobsmacked, but she looped her arm around his neck and didn't try to break any of his bones. 

He carried her to the bed, lowering her to the mattress and taking a step back to enjoy the view. By some miracle, the window above them remained intact, and it blocked the sounds of a city in chaos, sirens and shouts and honking horns and more sirens. There was only silence and slanted sunlight catching her hair and her narrowed, cat-like eyes. She seemed relaxed, he knew it was an act. She wasn't truly relaxed. Yet. But she would be. 

Clint stripped off his shirt but left his pants on. She pulled his body down to cover hers, smoothing her hands up and down his arms, massaging and squeezing his thick muscles. Her touch lit him on fire, but he ignored his growing interest in favor of fanning her arousal. He wasn't going to touch her pussy until she was hot and slick. Fortunately, he knew things about her nobody else ever got close enough to even suspect. 

He threaded his fingers through her soft hair, massaging the back of her scalp until she was purring like a kitten. He clenched his fingers into a fist and yanked, forcing her head back. She gasped softly, but she might as well have shouted her pleasure. He relaxed and flexed his fingers, pulling firmly enough to set off a cascade of sparks through her body.He kissed down her neck, over the ridge of her collarbone, dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat, collected minute beads of sweat and tasted the bitter aftertaste of adrenaline and fear. When he touched his mouth to her pulse and flexed his fist again, her pulse jumped, beating against his lips like a trapped butterfly.

Clint palmed her breast, squeezing in rhythm with the hand in her hair, massaging the tender flesh until she shifted--nothing more than a minute thrust of her hips. Her nipple hardened, the smooth pink pebble beckoning his mouth. Pink met pink as he licked over the tip, teasing the flesh until it was even more swollen, even more tender. He shifted focus without warning, yanking hard enough on her hair to prompt more than a gasp, sinking his teeth into her nipple at the same time. 

She arched off the bed, her long fingers sliding over the back of his head, holding him down. He used his tongue and teeth until her whimpers were more a continuous sound than the occasional punctuation point, then shifted to her other nipple. He could smell her now, the familiar tang seeping into his senses. She wrapped her legs around his thigh, grinding her slick mound against him. He tried to pull away from her, but she was like a steel trap around him, not allowing him to move as much as an inch. 

"Want me to suck on your clit, sweetheart?" 

Natasha instantly loosened her grip, giving him the room he needed to move, but she wasn't the one calling the shots. He scraped his nails over her tit and down her ribs, leaving four matching ribbons of red. He followed the marks with his mouth, soothing away the red with the tip of his tongue. He did the same down the center of her chest and over her defined abs. She twitched beneath his nails, writhed beneath his mouth, tried to lock around him again, but this time he engaged in certain evasive actions. 

"Clint." 

The sign he'd been waiting for, the sign that she was already near her breaking point. Her scent surrounded him now, intoxicating and mouth watering. He imagined the rest of their merry band was consuming mass quantities of schwarma, but after a real good fight, he was only hungry for one thing. She spread her legs, hooking her knees over his shoulders as he settled between her thighs. He licked down the crease of one leg, then up the other, pressed kisses to her mound and her swollen lips, spread her arousal across his lips and chin, teased her with the possibility of his tongue. 

The first time she let him between her legs, he ate her out for hours. He had a photographic memory and there wasn't a single detail he didn't remember about that first night. He used his knowledge to its full potential, and he suspected that was why he was one of the view who earned a second invitation--and several more after that. Her labia were sensitive, and her legs scissored around his head as he scraped his teeth over the swollen flesh. She was like a succulent piece of fruit ready to burst between his lips, and he was ready to drink down every drop of her. 

His tongue slid over her hood, delicately pushing it back as he held the nubbin between his teeth. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking on the flesh, pulling more hot blood to the surface of her skin. She rolled her hips, grinding against his face. Her clit throbbed between his lips, her pulse beating harder than ever before. She had complete control over that response. She could slow her heart, lower her hormone levels and recalibrate her breathing, turning it off and shutting him out in a second. But instead of gathering her control, she let it spin out of her grasp, let him catch it between grasping fingers.

He found the wet slit of her sex with his middle finger and slid inside with an easy stroke. She clenched around her him, her tight walls squeezing his digit like a fist wrapped in a velvet glove. He wiggled the tip against the roof, just beneath her engorged clit. She bucked, pleasure making her tense, and she moved with his hand, rocking forward when he tried to pull away. He pumped his wrist, letting his pointer finger slip inside as well. Her knees locked over his buzzing ears, her clit throbbing with new intensity. 

Barton didn't know how long it'd been for her, but her elastic walls were tight and fresh, fluttering around him like he was touching virgin flesh. He fucked her open slowly, rotating his wrist, scissoring his fingers, finding the tender spots that made her jump and clamp down around him even harder. His tongue never stopped working over her cluster of nerve-endings, stoking the flames fanning through her, relentless yet tender. The light, fluttering pressure wasn't enough to set her off like a rocket, just tease the possibility, prolong the inevitability. 

He pushed a third finger into her channel, like sliding a hot knife into butter. He turned his palm upward, pushed in as deep as he could go and curled his fingers. She sat straight up, and he barely had the presence of mind to slap his free hand over her mouth. She grasped it with both of hers, holding it in place as she bucked against his fingers and his mouth, riding out the first of what he hoped would be dozens of orgasms. She flickered and fluttered and pumped her hips before falling back in a sweaty daze, her pussy rapidly flexing and relaxing with each rush of pleasure. 

That was his cue to slide out. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sampling her juices from his skin before thrusting his tongue inside, seeking out the source of the delicious elixer. He pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing the flesh in slow, hard circles while he fucked her with his mouth, thrusting his tongue again and again into the quivering, hot entrance. He felt it building again, but he had full control over it. He used his thumb to guide her to the summit, each slow rotation carrying her higher, each pause in between letting her sink back down to earth just a little bit. She painted his tongue with her arousal, and when he pinched her clit between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, she flooded his mouth with more cum. He lapped it up, swallowing down as much as he could before lifting his head. 

He watched her vibrate through the aftershocks, her eyes closed, her lips parted and her color high. He balled his fingers into a fist and pressed the knuckles to her opening. She mewed at the new pressure, unlocking her legs from around his neck to spread them wide. He pulled his attention from her face to watch his fist slowly disappear into her pussy. She was still so fucking tight, like he hadn't done anything to stretch her at all, but she still accepted him, her body relenting to the pressure as he twisted his wrist and slowly filled her. She stopped mewing, her sounds falling away, and for long beats there was only silence--his conscientious and studious, hers shocked and overwhelmed. 

When he finally had his hand buried inside, he stopped, waited, giving them both a chance to adjust. Now he didn't just feel her heartbeat, it actually throbbed threw his arm, changed the pace of his own heart. She had her head back and her eyes closed, and he didn't know where her mind was, but he wanted her attention. 

"Look at me, Natasha." 

Her luminous eyes fluttered open and he rewarded her with a small nudge against her back wall. She took a great sucking breath, like her lungs had been starved of oxygen for the past five minutes, and he did it again. She shook her head and immediately stopped moving, waiting for her next signal. 

"Is there something wrong?" 

She shook her head again. 

"Do you need me to stop?" 

"N-no..." 

"Are you...scared?" That question in any other circumstance would probably earn him a quick kick to the face. She didn't nod. But she didn't shake her head, either. Only stared at him, as though she was looking right through him--or hoping with all her heart that he could look right through her. His eyes were good, but they weren't that good. 

"Relax," he murmured. "This..." Bending his elbow back, sliding out ever so slowly. "Will be." Forward again, knuckles gliding over her walls, pushing to the very back. "So good." Bending forward again, nuzzling his nose against her clit. He could feel his fist under her skin, pushing the flesh forward even further, making it easier for him to close his lips around it like a little cock. The pressure of his lips made her tense again, and he stopped, his other hand gently stroking over her thigh. 

He moved in increments of centimeters, muscles flexing as he worked his hand nearly out of her body. He shifted direction again, moving a little bit faster, but just as carefully. Her face screwed up, her hands curling into white-knuckled fists at her side. He sat up straighter, enchanted by the sight of her at the very threshold of her control. The first two orgasms were good--and in some cases they probably would have good enough--but they were just the warning shots before a real fire fight. He wanted to watch her come undone in a chain reaction and he was getting closer to that goal by the second. 

Natasha started to rock her hips. At first, she was hardly moving, but it didn't take her long to build speed. She bore down on him and soon she wasn't just using her hips to fuck herself on his fist, but the strength of her whole body. A steadying hand on her stomach kept her from going too fast, and her head whipped back and forth, her curls moving like flames against the white linen. 

His cock strained against his pants, aching for attention, jerking sporadically as if trying to break free of its prison. When the pain began to threaten his concentration, he unzipped himself with his free hand, pulling his shaft free but not stroking himself. His pants were wet with pre-cum, as was the full length of his cock, and his hand once he touched himself. He promised himself he'd take care of it later--God knew he would have plenty of new images to call upon, not to mention the fresh scent and taste of her on his hand. But that felt like a pathetically hollow promise when her pussy was clenching around his fist and he wanted to bury his cock, wanted to be balls deep inside with his mouth fused to hers and every inch of their bodies touching in the square patch of fading sunlight. 

Barton felt the difference when it happened, felt the sudden click of something shifting, when the last traces of pain finally melted into pleasure and nothing held her back. It was like she shed invisible shackles holding her to the bed, and the woman who was always locked away behind a carefully crafted wall was finally allowed to emerge in all her power and glory. This woman broke through the wall with a bone shaking orgasm. It was like a bomb going off--first there was a tremble and then there was a wall of pure energy slamming into him. This time, he didn't think to cover her mouth, and her shout of release echoed through Stark Tower, alerting one and all to the festivities that were just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha. Could not. Catch her breath. 

Every time she tried, a new wave of pleasure shook her frame and seized her lungs, and oxygen seemed like an impossible luxury. When Hawkeye first worked his fist into her body, it seemed like it was far too much, and even though she was well-trained to sublimate pain, to ignore it, to fight through it if she felt it at all, that almost seemed like it was simply too much...too much _sensation_. Too much to bear. 

Barton wouldn't let her have a single second of relief. Even when he stopped moving and asked if she had any problems, there was no relief. Just the never-ending pressure, the slowly gathering waves of pleasure at her core. She was already tender, swollen and tight and sensitive from her previous orgasms. How could she even ask for more? 

But there was more. So much more. There was the flexing of thick muscles as he worked his fist in and out. There was the look of dark-eyed satisfaction as he absorbed every single detail and reaction. He always watched her like that. At first, it made her uncomfortable, but now she felt at home beneath his scrutiny. She trusted him. He would never use what he knew against her, only in service to her. His love--unspoken but always present--used to make her uncomfortable, too, but now she had a small taste of what life would be like without him. She was so thankful to have him back and that gratitude fueled every one of her reactions, sharpened and brightened every second of pleasure. 

He pressed the heel of his hand to her clit, grinding down with every powerful thrust of his arm. The pressure was impossible, the ache to be filled soothed every time his muscles bulged. When she could keep her eyes open, she watched him watching her. She could get lost in his blue eyes--she'd spent countless hours over the years swimming in their depths, trying to learn what they saw. Now they only saw her, tipping closer to complete abandon while charges of pleasure repeatedly exploded, rocking her from the inside out. 

"Tasha? You okay?" 

"Don't stop," she whispered hoarsely. "Don't..." There was more to this. She was at another breaking point--another wall. There was more and oh she could feel it building, pulsing and expanding. She felt something similar when she held Loki's scepter, only that came from outside of her and this came from the vibration of every cell until they were all humming at the same, perfect frequency. 

"Oh." A tiny sound. "God." Broken into three long syllables as her world narrowed down to a single point and then expanded...and expanded...and expanded more until it obliterated the boundaries within her and with out her. She lifted with the rising pleasure, body stiff as she slammed down on Clint's clenched fist, until there was nothing but mind-shattering waves of bliss, eternal, relentless, breaking over her. 

She might have screamed. She might have screamed a lot. She kept waiting for the waves to pull back and stay back, but if anything they grew stronger. She could tell Clint to stop, to hold still, but she didn't think it would make any difference. This was a chain reaction, a domino effect of orgasms, each one setting off the next, passing on a glowing red ember of pure satisfaction, burning hot enough to ignite new firestorms every second. 

"Tasha...Tasha shhh sweetheart you have to be..." 

The door slammed open. Clint froze. She whimpered, her body still riding over the crest of a tall wave. 

"Get in or get out," she said in a strained tone. "Clint...please..." 

The floor shook as the god of thunder strolled into the bedroom. "It would do me great honor to please you with my penis. If Agent Barton does not protest." 

"Uh, I think that goes for all of us." Tony's voice. "Double for me." 

"I have no protests. It's up to her." 

"Yes, yes, just please don't stop..."


	3. Chapter 3

Clint was not a leader on the battle field. He was a good soldier, taking and acting on his orders, and that was the natural order of things. But now a god, a man who could turn into a green rage machine, a super soldier, and the billionaire philanthropist genius himself were all looking at Clint like he was the man with the plan. He looked back to Natasha, who he could plainly see would be no help to him. She wasn't going to dictate what happened or where, she only wanted the pleasure to continue unabated. Which meant he was the man with the only plan that mattered. 

He gestured Thor to him with a nod of his head. His armor was gone, and he made short work of the rest of his close before he joined Clint on the bed. The mattress was a good one--it barely snagged beneath the giant man's weight. Clint was not surprised to see that Thor was entirely proportional. Clint didn't have anything to be ashamed of himself, but he did blush a little at the sight of Thor's massive cock. It was a foot if it was an inch, and it was good that Tasha had been stretched by his fist, because the girth was...intimidating.

"She's going to be really tender right now, so take it slow." 

Thor slapped him on the back. "Fear not, my Midgard brother. I will be gentle with her but human women are quite capable of accommodating me." 

"Yeah, I bet they are," Clint muttered as he slowly extracted his fist. Natasha did not want to let him go, her hips shifting, rocking forward as he attempted to pull away. He distracted her with a pinch to her clit, which was not unlike setting off a short fuse on a big bomb. She thrashed wildly, her whimpers of protests turning into what sounded like threatening shouts as he finally pulled completely free. She collapsed onto the bed, trembling and breathing hard, her hips still moving, her hands grasping the air at her side. 

Thor positioned himself between her splayed legs, slid his hands beneath the small of her back and lifted, guiding her onto his cock, pulling her down in an easy stroke. Her breath caught, her eyes nearly popping out of her head, her lips opening and closing soundlessly. Thor smiled down at her proudly. 

"Would you like to move now?" 

"Yes." 

The rest of the men, Clint included, watched with jealous fascination as Thor lifted her until only the final inch of his twelve remained inside of her and then slammed forward with far too much force. Clint stepped forward, unsure of how he would actually stop a god from being too rough, but his intervention was unnecessary. Natasha screamed with the second hard thrust but she definitely was not in pain. Her face and body contorted, and then she was caught back in the chain reaction, muscles convulsing and shuddering, her lithe body rolling and rocking and rising up to meet Thor's thick cock. 

Clint turned to Dr. Banner, who had a very unsure expression on his face, like he wasn't sure what was happening, who anybody was, or why he was there. "Why don't you help her with her breathing." 

Banner dragged his attention away from Thor and Tasha and blinked. "What?" 

"Help her. She's going to hyperventilate." Clint didn't know exactly how Banner should help her, but it would give him something to do. And she was in danger of hyperventilating. Her moans were getting lost in the sound of her ragged intakes of breath, each one too fast and too broken. Apparently, her oxygen levels weren't Thor's problem, because he gave no signs of slowing down. He fucked her with boundless enthusiasm, his smile never faltering. 

Banner nodded, crawled onto the bed and motioned to Thor, who lifted her off the mattress, holding her suspended on his cock. Bruce sat cross legged at the head of the bed and took her by the shoulders, guiding her back down to his lap. No part of her touched the bed, her shoulders resting on Banner's thighs, her legs wrapped around Thor's hips, her body forming a taut bridge between them. 

"Toys!" Tony declared. "We definitely need toys. I happen to have some brilliant ones in the lab." 

"Great...wait, what? Why do you have your sex toys in the lab?" 

"Where else would they be?" Tony asked. "I'll be right back. Don't have too much fun without me." He grabbed Clint by the arm and yanked him close. "What's going on with Thor? Is he part horse?" 

"I'll be sure to ask him." 

That left only Steve hanging back near the door, his eyes glued on the bed, his feet glued to the floor. When he glanced over to Clint, there was more than a hint of fear in his eyes. It was the first time Clint saw anything resembling fear on Captain America's face all day. That wasn't an unwise state to be in around the Black Widow, but for now, she was harmless and Clint would show him there was nothing to worry about. 

"Come here." He took Steve by the arm and walked him across the room, pushing him down to sit on the bed. Thor nodded his greeting without breaking his rhythm, and Natasha, for her part, didn't seem aware of them at all. 

"You like titties, right?" Clint prompted, taking Steve's hand and guiding it to her hard nipple. At first, Steve barely glided his fingertips over the flesh, but she responded instantly, arching her back to thrust into his hand. Clint pressed down, touching her with Steve's fingers, showing him what to do until he moved without Clint's prompting. Steve watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest with awe--Clint should know. He was sure he wore an identical expression the first time he touched Natasha's nipples. 

"May I use my mouth?" 

"Use whatever you've got, my friend." 

Steve smiled and bent his head, his golden hair shimmering as he lapped her pebbled flesh, acquainting his tongue with the exquisite softness of silky skin for the first time.


	4. Chapter 4

When Natasha opened her eyes again, she was staring straight up into Bruce's soft brown irises. Her heart lodged in her throat with sudden fear, but there wasn't a hint of green in the brown depths, and the self-conscious smile told her the automatic reaction didn't go unnoticed. 

She would have apologized, but words were not an option. Speaking may never be an option again. Her throat was dry and rough from the shouts Thor and Clint were able to prompt, and her brain functions were pared down to only the most basic. She'd been conditioned to tolerate pain, to sublimate it, and ultimately, to love it. But her previous lessons hadn't done anything to prepare her for this, which was about as far away from pain as she could imagine, but still threatened to break her down more thoroughly than any torture. 

Bruce slid his hands down her arms and folded his massive palms around her fingers, holding them as firmly as he held her attention. He brought her hands to her chest, holding them over her heart while he continued to stare down into her eyes. Thor moved like a well-oiled machine, his cock pistoning in and out and in and out, sawing against her pelvic bone and her most tender flesh. He shifted, angled his hips just so as Steve--or maybe it was Clint--bit on her throbbing nipple. The pressure was intense, but even that couldn't be said to hurt. It was only a higher form of sensation, a new plain of feeling. She lost track of everything, her vision blurring into a gray haze, her latest orgasm draining the world of color. 

When she swam out of the black and white fog, Bruce was still watching her, though his sheepish smile was gone, replaced by a more thoughtful frown. 

"Do you trust me, Natasha?" 

Her brain and mouth was numb so she nodded. She wasn't sure about her feelings when it came to The Other Guy--mind-numbing terror probably described it closest--but she trusted Dr. Banner. 

"Keep looking at me." LIke she could tear her attention from his searching gaze. "Watch my breathing. Can you follow my breathing?" 

How how how? How was she going to do that? How could she waste any amount of concentration or energy on that when Thor's truly magnificent dick was ramming into her on a regular rock-and-roll beat? But Bruce was looking at her with expectant eyes, and the lips and tongues on her breasts paused for just a moment, and she had a small window to inhale, to suck her breath in with him and hold it for a beat and then slowly exhale. 

He held her attention, kept her breathing in his rhythm like he was leading a guided meditation. The sensations didn't fade, but her heart slowed and her head cleared with regular oxygen. Now instead of being caught in a wicked storm, buffeted by high wind and struck over and over with lightning, she was drifted on a calm sea, rising and falling with the waves as they rolled beneath her. 

And then he started doing something with his hands. She wasn't sure what, because she couldn't feel him, she could only sense his palms as they roamed up and down her body, hovering a half-inch above her skin. The creases on his face smoothed out, the perpetual worry and tension leaving his brow and mouth, and everything seemed to slow. Even Thor responded to the change in Natasha, slowing his strokes down to a tempo that was maddening and wonderful. One that followed her breathing--one that forced her to keep taking slow, deep breaths if she wanted to keep breathing at all. 

Her irritation spiked as she waited to feel Bruce's hands touch down on her flushed skin, and so it took her a few moments to realize she could feel him even though there was no actual contact between them. Something moved within her as hands glided through the air, and she knew when his palms were over her elbows, or her forearms, or her shoulders, or the center of her stomach. He moved slowly, a rush of heat following every deliberate gesture, his eyes never leaving hers. 

"Natasha, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I hope this helps." He pushed his arms forward, as though shoving something to her feet. She felt all the heat rush through her veins to settle in her groin, her pussy clenching so hard that Thor's rhythm faltered and his hands went to her hips. 

"It's fine, it's good, it helps," she babbled mindlessly, her walls gripping and milking Thor's cock so thoroughly that he must have had exceptional control not to blow his load right there. She wasn't sure if this counted as an orgasm or something else, because it felt far more serious than that. 

He smiled wryly, and it was her chest's turn to constrict. "I haven't done it yet. Gentlemen, hold her arms please."

Clint took one wrist, Steve took the other, their fingers locking as tight as steel bracelets. Thor clutched her ankles, holding her legs tightly around his waist. Bruce's hands were hovering over her stomach and then she felt the lightest scrape of a fingernail over her cleanly shaven mound. She bit her lip, holding back a whimper at the contact that barely felt like a whisper from a ghost compared to the twelve inches of man flesh pumping into her. 

"Don't forget your breathing," Bruce murmured, his face filling her vision as he moved in for a surprise kiss. Their lips touched just as his finger moved over her clit, and he pressed down, driving his thumb into the engorged flesh just as Thor filled her. Natasha heard a curious _whumphf_ in her ears and then everything went electric and black.


	5. Chapter 5

Even with the four of them holding her down, she almost dealt out some serious damage. Clint had seen her lose control before, but never like this. She bucks and twists, wrenching the control from Thor so she could fuck herself on his cock, legs tightening around her waist while she drilled herself with every ounce of strength she possessed her finely honed body. 

Clint didn't know what he was expecting as Banner worked his magic, but it definitely was not that. Steve clearly wasn't expecting it either, and his grip slipped on her wrist. Her arm went wild, flinging around in the air, nearly connecting with Steve's face. Clint caught her fist just in time. The super soldier could take the blow, but nothing killed the mood quite like a broken nose and gushing blood. He learned that the hard way in Seoul. Steve offered him a grateful smile over her heaving frame, and Clint noticed the little captain jutting from between his thighs. Well, little wasn't exactly the right word. If anybody in that room was going to give Thor a challenge, it would be the Cap. 

That gave Clint a wonderful idea. 

"Turn her over on her stomach," Clint instructed. 

Thor did as he was told, flipping her over mid-stroke without pulling out. She made a sound that seemed like approval and thrust back, popping her ass in the air as she took Thor's cock at a new angle. It gave her more control, too, and she didn't hesitate to grab the reins with both hands and pump her hips into another chain of orgasms. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and sweat, and her hair was plastered to her head. Clint had never seen her so disheveled and flushed, so wanton and strong. 

Clint took Steve's hand, guiding it over the curvature of his spine and the luscious mound of her ass. He used his hold to drag Steve's fingers up and down her crack, moving the tips closer to her pucker. She twitched as he touched her there, and Clint released Steve's hand, certain the other man got the point. 

He didn't. As soon as Clint let him go, Steve's hand fluttered away like a shy bird. Clint caught his eye with a frown and nodded to her ass. Steve looked at him helplessly. Clint release a small growl of impatience, pulled her cheeks apart and leaned over, dragging his tongue across the tight ring. This time, she pushed back, clearly wanting to feel more than just the tip of his tongue. He wiggled his tongue over the opening again and again, making her slick before reaching for Steve's hand. He sucked the long middle finger between his lips, wrapping his tongue around the digit, letting his spit slide over the knuckle. When he pulled his mouth away, he didn't give Steve a second chance to change his mind, pushing the blunt tip against her hole. 

Steven was certainly strong enough to pull away or resist Clint's guidance, but he didn't. Clint pushed the fingertip with the dull, chewed on nail past her opening, then deeper into her unresisting body, not stopping until Steve was buried to his third knuckle. With his fingers still wrapped around Steve's wrist, he showed him how to move, how to slide in and out at just the right speed to complement the brutal fucking Thor was giving Natasha--or maybe Natasha was brutally fucking Thor. It was difficult to tell at this point. 

"I don't think that's a good idea." Banner's soft voice pulled Clint's attention away from her ass. When Thor flipped her over, he put her face right in Banner's crotch, and she was apparently intent on taking advantage of her new position. She clawed at his borrowed pants in between moments of frantically mouthing his dick through the material. "Natasha..." 

Clint understood Banner's protest, and honestly agreed with him more than a little bit. Playing around with the Hulk seemed like a pretty bad idea, and Natasha of all people should know that. But she wasn't letting that stop her, and Clint wasn't going to be the one to stand between her and what she wanted. He calmly reached over and unbuttoned and unzipped Bruce's pants in a single motion, so quick that Bruce didn't even have a chance to protest. 

Natasha mewed with delight as Brucer's cock fell within her grasp. She opened her mouth wide and swallowed his length without hesitation, her eyes closing with bliss as her cheeks hollowed. She didn't move her head, but her mouth still pumped up and down Bruce's solid length as her body rocked with Thor's powerful thrusts. 

"She is insatiable," Thor declared with obvious delight. "Like the finest Asgardian woman." 

For the first time, Clint had second thoughts about introducing her to Thor's cock. 

"Will another finger hurt her," Steve asked, as concerned as Thor was delighted. The demigod had clearly realized that she was past the point of pain, but Steve didn't know about pushing a woman into such realms. 

"No. Stretch her out, Cap. Get her good and ready." 

"For what?" 

"Did somebody mention butt plugs?" Tony asked, appearing out of nowhere and giving Clint, at least, quite a fright. "Or was I just talking to myself?"


	6. Chapter 6

The first toy Tony presented looked more like a weapon than a butt plug. Literally something you could beat a man to death with. Steve's eyes looked like they might pop right out of his head before he refocused on Natasha. 

"Perhaps it might be necessary to use a lubricant?" Steve suggested. 

"Way ahead of you. Here, catch." Tony tossed a huge bottle of lube (the kind with a hand pump for a lid) at Steve's head, relying on his super fast reflexes to keep from being injured. He snatched it out of midair and slowly eased his fingers from Tasha, coating them liberally before wiggling two into her tight channel again. 

"What did I miss?" Tony asked as he opened the boxes one by one and removed the very instruments of pleasure (and torture) to lay out on the unused side of the bed. "Nothing too fun, I hope. My lab was a complete mess, I couldn't find anything and then Pepper called and when I told her what we were up to, she yelled at me for a good five minutes. Yelled, like it's my fault she's wherever she is and we're where we are." He held up one of the toys during his tirade and smiled. "This one will make her see the face of God." He flicked a switch and it buzzed to life. His smile grew. "Can I use it on her, please Mr. Hawkeye, can I please?" 

Clint nodded. Anything that would make her see the face of God was clearly within the parameters of the current mission. The toy was a little bit shorter than Thor and not quite as wide, though it would definitely split her wide open. It was composed of a series of four widening rings, connected with a narrow shaft. The rings rotated while they vibrated, moving in opposite directions. The bottom had a comfortable grip with a rough texture, probably to keep control of it even when it was slick with lube. 

"I brought something else for you," Tony said, handing a box to Clint. He recognized the toy as soon as he opened it, a smile spreading over his face. 

"Oh, this is going to be fun." He took the violet wand from its nest of foam and flipped the switch on the bottom. It immediately cackled with electricity, the long, thin strands dancing, reaching for a connection. Clint angled it downward, touching the tip of the small of her back. She bucked like a horse and Banner and Thor both made nearly identical sounds of surprise, though Thor's was much deeper. 

Clint touched her with it again and again, fascinated by the little blue sparks he saw jumping from the wand to her flesh. He picked up the electrical charges with his lips, kissing her with each shocking bit of contact. Her muscles twitched beneath her skin, sometimes jumping before he even had the chance to touch her. He traced the scars on her back with it, using it as a substitute for his fingers and mouth, and the hair on the back her neck stood on end, goose bumps spreading like a rash down her spine and across her arms. 

Natasha still would not release Banner's cock, her mouth working him over voraciously. It was an act she enjoyed but rarely indulged in due to an aversion he never asked about. Banner had his hand in her ear, though he was only holding her, and it was hard to say if he was enjoying the attention. His cock was still hard as ever, his hips rolling and pumping, his face flushed, but he didn't look relaxed. In fact, this was probably the least relaxed Clint had seen him in their very short acquaintance. 

"Is she ready, Cap?" 

"No. She's so...tight. She won't be able to take that." 

"No, trust me, she will. And she'll love it. Would I lie? I mean, would I lie about something important?" Tony beamed at him, but Steve did not look convinced. At all. 

Natasha herself stopped the argument from escalating, tearing her mouth away from Banner with an audible pop. 

"What? Let...me...see." 

Tony obediently held it up in her line of vision, rings spinning, shaft vibrating and we're those...? Yes, those were LED lights running up the center, alternating between red and purple. 

"Use it. Fuck me with it right now." 

"There's a reason I've always liked you." He kneeled beside her, practically straddling Steve's lap to get into position. Steve shifted uncomfortably but Tony only smirked down at him. "I know, sometimes orgies are awkward. You get used to it." 

He coated the butt plug with lube while Steve pulled his fingers free. Tony pressed the top of the toy flat against her asshole and twisted it to the left and then to the right, carefully working the thick ring past her tiny--albeit stretched--opening. She howled, a surprising sound that was cut off by Bruce suddenly pushing his cock back into her mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

She was going to lose her mind. Nobody could take things this far and walk away with her sanity intact. She was fading in and out of consciousness, fully awake but not fully aware of everything that was happening around her. She came to herself with Bruce's cock in her mouth, faded out, came to again when Tony was waving a toy around and Steve was making noises like a worried mother hen. Faded back to pure sensation, lost in friction, still drowning in pleasure and she didn't know if she could take it anymore. It was so much. All so, so, so much. Now she was back, and the toy was slowly filling her ass while Bruce fucked her face and God they were probably going to kill her...

But fuck if she didn't want more. When she told Tony to fuck her with that toy, she meant it. Because as good as Steve's slippery fingers felt sliding in and out of her, something thick and vibrating would feel even better. Would break her and oh why did she want that so bad? She understood self-destruction. She understood rushing headlong to annihilation. But this wasn't destructive. This wasn't about destroying any part of herself, and when she tested the boundaries, they didn't snap back to slap her in the face. 

"Captain Rogers, I am growing weary. Perhaps you would like to have a chance to pleasure the lady?" He stopped. It was strange, and her body didn't know how to deal with the sudden lack of motion. Her pussy clenched hard, unwilling to let him go, while her hips continued to rock. She couldn't stop them. It felt like they were tied to strings and some great puppet master was forcing her to move, yanking her to the left and the right. 

"That's very gracious of you, Thor. Of course the Cap would love to have the chance," Tony said smoothly, and Natasha could only imagine what Steve's face must have looked like. The toy was still sinking into her, easier now that there wasn't a giant cock filling her channel and making her ass even tighter. But she couldn't keep still, and the sudden hollow feeling would have had her screaming with frustration if her mouth wasn't so occupied. 

Her heart hammered in her ears while she waited for the men to switch positions, the only thing louder than that was the toy vibrating through her body, echoing in her bones and her skull, even her teeth picked up tiny vibrations beneath her gums. There was a nudge, a pause, and then Steve slid into her, fully sheathing himself with a long sigh. He paused again, and Natasha realized he needed time to adjust, but that was not happening. Thor's dick was ramrod straight, but Cap's was curved, bent at just the right angle to squarely hit her G-spot as he slid home. 

With that, she went from zero to sixty, not waiting for Steve to figure out what he wanted to do with her. She didn't care. She just wanted to feel the fat mushroom-head grind against her most sensitive area, while her pussy gripped and held him and her body pummeled him. It was like slamming backwards into a brick wall--one that had a giant spinning dildo attached. Tony was trying to be gentle with her, but every time she fucked herself on Steve's cock, she drove the toy deeper into her bowels. 

Where's Clint she wondered distantly, her mind unmooring again. She fought against it, turning her head to scan the room over her shoulder. She was just in time to see Thor take Clint's head in one huge hand and pull him into a hard, wet, tonguey kiss. Thor looked like he wanted to eat Clint from the inside out, like he was trying to plunge his tongue all the way down his throat. Clint, for his part, was returning the kiss with enthusiastic moans and something twisted in her chest. It coiled tighter and tighter, and she didn't know what to call that burning, stinging, delightful feeling. Jealousal? 

She'd have to think of a name for it later. In the mean time, it was hot. Hot enough to make her clit twitch and ache for attention. 

"Tony, please..." 

"Please?...oh! I bet I know what you need. Terribly sorry, that was not very gentlemanly of me was it?" His hand slid between her thighs, his palm fitting snugly against Steve's cock as he slid in and out, the tips of his fingers grinding into her clit. "Is that better?" 

"Oh, thank you...thank you..." She caught Bruce's cock with her lips again, needing the thick meat to muffle the shouts that wanted to tumble out after her words of gratitude. She was now completely full, no terrible, hollow ache demanding attention, no inch of her left untouched or wanting. Her mind was a whitewash of hormones and chemicals. For the first time, sex felt as good as a really good fight. 

Clint's attention was back on her. She could feel it even before he touched her again. He took her by the shoulders and forced her to sit up, pulling her mouth off Banner's cock. He grunted in protest, but he didn't sound angry, so Natasha studied Clint's face. He pressed his chest to hers, supporting her as she slid down on Cap and back on the toy. He cupped her face in his rough palms, the hand that could deal out brutal death cradling her cheek like she was made of something precious. The other hand was still holding the violet wand, and he touched it to her nipple at the same moment he claimed her mouth in a kiss meant to mark her. Permanently. 

And that's when the fireworks really erupted behind her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

It went without saying that everything that happened in that room stayed in that room (though Clint did mention something to Thor just to be on the safe side). They all maintained mutual silence except for one tiny moment of drunken indiscretion when the five men compared notes (they felt safe to do so because Natasha was on a S.H.I.E.L.D assignment) and they'd all independently reached the same conclusion: 

Her final orgasm was the most intensely erotic, sexy thing any of them had ever witnessed, in or outside of porn. True Steve and Banner had little to go on, and Thor didn't watch porn, but they couldn't imagine anything hotter, anyway. Her pleasure had swept through the room like a thunder storm in August, stealing their breaths, reaching into their bodies and touching a chord so deep, so intimate, that they all experienced their own surge of bliss. 

It made sense for Clint and Steve to be caught up, and Clint wasn't even touching his cock when it jerked. The pleasure stole his breath and he gasped, sucking the air from her lungs as he painted her stomach with his sticky cum. Steve was only human--and an inexperienced one at that--and her pussy clamped down and squeezed him, milking him for all he was worth. His moan was broken and desperate as he emptied himself into the condom Tony had so thoughtfully provided. 

Tony himself wasn't immune. Her clit trembled and danced against his finger, and he pressed back, but that was the only real point of contact between them. But just being that close to her, where her scent was so heavy in the air that he could actually taste the sex on his tongue, did a number on him. His cock was at full attention, but his hands were busy and he was not going to stop. 

Thor, being a man primarily of action, wasted no time in finding where he was needed the most. He fisted Banner with one hand and Tony with the other, happily stroking, squeezing just a little too hard. Natasha was still thrumming, humming under her breath as her clit pulsed a rapid tattoo, and it only took two hard pumps to have both Bruce and Tony doubled over and gasping, their dicks suddenly went with thick gobs of jizz. 

Natasha went lax, collapsing into Clint's arms with absolutely no grace. He could feel that she had no strength left, no tension in her limbs. He couldn't even be sure if she was awake. He gently maneuvered her to the mattress, making motions at Steve to get something to help her clean her up. 

They all sat on the bed, watching silently while Clint washed the cum from her skin, kissed the mark on her temple (he would have preferred to do that without an audience), and covered her with a blanket. 

"That was great fun!" Thor declared once they trooped out of the bedroom, leaving her to her very deep, restful slumber. She'd wake up feeling like a million bucks in the morning. Maybe she'd smile at Clint and make his whole week. "Is that a normal Midgard custom after a battle?" 

"No. Well...no." 

"It should be!" Thor boomed. 

Tony slapped him on the shoulder. "I agree. I could use a beer. What about you?" Steve and Bruce made noises of agreement, but Clint hung back, nudged the bedroom door open, peeked around the edge. She was exactly where he left her, of course, and in exactly the same position. 

She was there. And he was here. He released a slow breath, unsure of what was going to happen to him. Everything was in flux and he didn't think Fury would welcome back his scrambled brain with open arms. But she was there, and as long as that was true, he supposed he'd be all right. 

She opened one eye then, as though she could read his thoughts, and met the one eye he had visible through the crack in the door. Natasha smiled sleepily, whispered something he couldn't make out, and nuzzled her face into the pillow. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers one by one, savoring the taste of her as he shut the door with a final click.


End file.
